Mind, Body, Light, Sound
by Dulllahan
Summary: I was mortal, once.


**_(Named after a song I was listening to while I wrote this. Give it a listen.)_**

I forget that I was once mortal. I look through the veil of Oblivion, watching mortals do their daily routines, never hindered by facts that they see right in front of them. There are things that I see, now that I'm a god. I was mortal. I forget that. That sometimes goes unnoticed, like those facts that could cripple your sanity even though they're right in front of you.

I don't know about the future like I probably should. It's like a dream, future events are hazy to me and don't make much sense, and they don't matter much when you're in the present. I don't know if I will end in a gory demise or blink out of existence immediately as the rest of Oblivion and Nirn does. I don't know if I will be mortal again. I will probably never experience dying in the way I was born to.

I see mortals dying of disease and starvation. They don't care much for anything else than help. I laugh, then I sigh because those are the mad ones that will be added to my dimension. They have no future. They cared about what affected them. I cannot be affected by those things anymore.

I feel like I'm a ghost, or at least what one would be. I cannot remember my name like I should. It's Sheogorath, but who was I before? I was somebody. I remember other people, but who was I? Who was the one who helped Martin Septim? Who was the Hero of Kvatch? Who was my champion?

Mortals have breath and flesh. I have nothing. I have form, I have change, but I am always just a shell of illusion. I was once flesh! Why am I like this? I ask Haskill, but he has no answer. He knows that I know why.

It's because what I will to be so happens. I cannot will this to not happen, because this is who I am. I am Sheogorath, I am chaos, I am the Prince of Madness and Creativity. I cannot change this, I cannot change my memory. Is this the only thing stagnant about Daedra?

It's tragic that I actually remember my birthday. Mad Pelagius day, 5th of Sun's Dawn. It's actually funny, though, because I remember only the details kept about me by others. Imperial records, journals that survived the Great War. My house in Bruma still remains untouched. It's become a town legend. The hero who closed the gates lived there, but nobody should ever set foot in the shack.

I hide behind the mask as I retreat into deathless thought. This is what breaks men. This is what makes people... I don't know. I'm going to make question marks a sound. Just did. That's what people are when they think about things like this. This is the kind of thing that makes question marks a sound. I am a sound. Now I am nothing. Now I am a memory. The mortal standing in front of me will see no change from their view, they just see me as a madman rattling on about the good ol' days.

I remember the words Uriel Septim told me. Actually, I don't. Something about the gods, how they guide my path, and that the Amulet of Kings should reach Jauffre. I remember the assassin then stabbing him, leaving me in shock but not surprised. He was certain he would die.

This mortal asks where the exit is. What I would do to be Uriel Septim, decaying in his grave, content with his foreseen death. I play a game with them, because that's what I'm supposed to do. Am I in the Isles? No, somewhere else. Must have been distracted. I'll play along with this mortal and give them a quest and then they'll win a prize.

The mortal reminds me of Martin, the unwilling heroic type. The one who secretly craves power. I'll give all of this to them if they ask. They don't. They're afraid. They do dumb little things that mortals mess up on. I don't mind. They have a horrible aim, just like I did. Now I can spit at a fly from across the continent and kill it. I want to go home, back to before I was even in this mess. They're not entertainment, just something new. Why am I not internally like I am externally? Or does it switch? Am I horrible when I'm happy on the inside? I don't know, I never paid attention.

Have I looked at myself lately? I change forms millions of times. I am what I remember of the old Sheogorath. I am an old man, joy in his eyes, smiling, ready to give another go at the whole "being a god" thing.

I'm going to leave. This time will be different. I will make it so.


End file.
